Writing Prompts **REQUESTS OPEN**

Feelings Vent

A/N:. For those of you who read this any chapter labeled "feelings vent" is likely to contain gore and death as I will be using these as a method of not physically injuring actual human beings when I wish to do so.  These "feelings vents" will not be based off of prompts and will be posted on spurs of the moments.  Thank you for understanding.

      Joseph continued screaming for help from his place in the dungeon.  Well... they did leave me alone to watch him and ensure the civilians didn't find out about our little demon captive in the dungeon so I might as well vent on him.  I might even be able to get him to crack!   

      It wasn't my fault he was screaming for help down there,  no, not my fault at all.  As a matter of fact screaming was right where I wanted him, though I wanted him to be screaming in agony and not fear of the agony he would be in.  Within seconds, I was found in the dungeon, an apron decorating my frilly dress and plaid.  My brothers had left our 'toys' out, be it they were scattered on a tray I could still find what I wanted here.  I wanted an escape, a fix.  It had been so long since I felt someone's blood pooling at my feet, their skin tearing beneath my hands in accordance to my design.  Months since I had heard their screams of agony echoing within my ears, since their muscles tensed beneath my knife and their skin boiled beneath my flame.  I was one of Hell's best, a knight in fact.  I should not have ever left, torture was my job.  It was my job, and I loved it. 

      "Well howdy Joey!  Weren't you my bitch for some time downstairs?"

      "Yeah.  And that's exactly why I ain't scared of what you're 'bout'a do."  The scum spat in my direction the tiny insufficient red-tinted droplet of saliva coming just short of the edge of my toe and blending into the trap stained into the ground at out feet.  

      Pacing towards the thing bound up to a table at the center, and lugging behind me a tray of tools to 'play' with; I noticed him begin to thrash against his bonds.  "Oh hush, Hun.   Throwing your arms about like that isn't going to do anything but inflict more damage.  So continue to try, I guess." 

      From the corner of my eye, i watched as the beast calmed his movements and his eyes widen while a smirk spread across my features.  "Time to play, what do you say?" I asked pulling out a small blade and heating it, and his expression shifted from fear to begging in a matter of seconds.

      The screams started out as a low whimpering, while I slowly dragged the knife across his collar bones, melting the skin as I went.  They shifted to gentle howls when I began to slowly dip the knife, barely penetrating the second layer of skin, layering his abdomen in clean cuts that crossed the muscle, sealing themselves in fractions of a second.  Those howls intensified into screeches dripped in melancholy and agony when I finally began to plunge the blade, now ice cold deep into his highly toned biceps and triceps, only to then plunge and sew the same punctures after, minutes of bleeding into a bowl, only to layer the infected skin with maggots, preventing infection.  Into his skin i carved a binding symbol, so he would be unable to escape this fate.  When I had had my fill of punishing, I attached his previously drained blood to an IV and left it to slowly drip back into his system, his screams still bouncing off of the walls.